


A Tiefling Finds Adventure

by WeeCoconutFlakes



Category: Pathfinder (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Alchemy, Gen, Tiefling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2017-12-28
Packaged: 2019-02-22 23:05:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13177098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeeCoconutFlakes/pseuds/WeeCoconutFlakes
Summary: Sarvin Delliser is a tiefling who wants to learn as much as he can, but his curiosity quickly gets him into trouble.





	A Tiefling Finds Adventure

**Author's Note:**

> A quick break from Sheaf's Chronicles, this explores the backstory of Savrin Delliser, my Pathfinder tiefling investigator character.

With a hood hanging down from his horns, Savrin Delliser set out into the cool night. He lowered himself from his third story window onto the roof of a nearby building. His light robes let him move swiftly across the rooftops. The beginnings of frost were setting in, and even through the scarf covering his face, his breath hung in the air. Darkness clung to the overcast night, and only his soft footfalls broke the silence.

He stopped as he found his destination. The royal court was an imposing stone building, like an elegant fortress in the city’s center. While likely filled with countless treasures, Savrin had only one prize in mind. He descended from the rooftop to the ground, landing deftly on the slick cobblestone.

He reached into his cloak and pulled out a small stoppered vial. Inside was a viscous, deep violet liquid. Savrin removed the stopper and drank the fluid, replacing the empty vial to its place. His hands and feet felt strange for a moment, until he adjusted to the feeling. He placed a hand to the sheer wall, and began to climb, sticking to the wall as a spider. He reached the window he’d earlier blocked open, and after a moment to check his surroundings, clambered inside.

He found himself in a carpeted hall, usually open to the public during the day. He listened closely, and heard footsteps in a nearby corridor. He hurried along toward the central chamber and stepped through a wide doorway to a balcony overlooking the court where criminals were brought to trial. He ducked and hugged the low wall as he snuck to a guard keeping watch over the court from the balcony. He glanced over the wall and saw the guard was alone with him in the room.

Savrin crept directly behind the guard and kicked his knees, buckling them and sending the man into his grasp. He then clamped a hand around the guard’s mouth and sharply struck him, a precise blow to the temple. The guard's eyes fluttered, and he stopped resisting.

Savrin dropped his limp body and descended the stairs, making his way to the center of the court. There sat a beautiful golden statue that radiated magical power, set over a chair with straps in the arms and legs.

This chair was where criminals were held during their trial, and the statue was powerfully enchanted. The magic it radiated compelled anyone close to it to speak truth, and to answer any question asked of them. Savrin had attempted to investigate it legally, but was turned away, so he had returned now under the cover of darkness.

Savrin believed he could emulate the artifact’s properties in a potion if he understood it well enough. First, he focused on its radiance, the magic he felt. Then he unsheathed a dagger and pulled a small, empty vial from his cloak. He shaved small flakes of the gold from the artifact, and stoppered the vial. He pulled a small notebook and a pen, and began writing. He noted the thin wire set into gold, likely copper. He was reaching to shave some of it off when a voice shouted at him.

“What do you think you’re doing?” A guard yelled as he ran toward Savrin, drawing a sword.

Savrin’s mouth moved automatically. “Investigating this artifact.” He flicked his wrist and sent his dagger into the guard’s chest. He stowed the vial and ran toward the now dazed guard and took the handle of his planted dagger, pulling the weapon from its place as he ran past. He sheathed it and sprinted toward the door ahead of him, as the wounded guard yelled out, raising an alarm. He burst through the doors, throwing himself at a nearby building, quickly climbing the smooth brick.

He sprinted across the rooftops, away from his home, until he was sure he’d lost the guards. He crouched behind a chimney and took stock. He opened his book and reviewed his notes, as well as taking a look at the samples he’d recovered. Satisfied, he put them away and swiftly made his way home. As he arrived, he placed a hand against the cobbled stone and climbed up. He was a few feet away from his window when he felt a strange feeling surge again through his hands. Suddenly, his hand slipped off the stone, and he fell from the wall. He landed in the muddy alleyway below, cursing himself as he rushed into the front door.

He stepped up the rounding, creaking stairs and stripped the muddy leather and robes off of himself, and deposited his vials. He lay the clothes out and got into his bed, ready for some much needed rest.

In the morning he set to washing his robes. He was going out to get some soap when he was stopped on the street.

“Mr. Delliser?” the man asked. He was tall and imposing, and wore practical, but distinguished, clothes.

Savrin was caught off-guard. “Ah, um, yes,” he stammered. “That’s me.”

The man nodded. “We’d best have a conversation, then.”

Savrin was nervous. “I’m afraid I was just going out--” He was cut off.

The man reached into his pocket and pulled out a badge identifying himself as the constable. Savrin’s eyes widened, and he shifted his eyes nervously. “I believe we can speak in the tavern.” They went inside and found an empty table in the corner.

“Let me cut to the chase, Mr. Delliser,” the constable said as he sat. “I know about the court last night.” Savrin tensed up as he said that. “Now,” the constable continued, “I’m here because I have a proposition for you.”

Savrin was extremely nervous. “And, what if I decline, what if I don’t know what you’re talking about?”

The constable sighed. “Then, I’ll have to arrest you. I hate to take advantage of it, but I doubt anyone would blink at me arresting someone of your,” he glanced up at Savrin’s horns. “Heritage.” He pulled a small notepad from his pocket. “Now, if I do that, we’ll bring you into the court, and you’ll confess to breaking and entering, trespassing on royal ground, tampering with a royal artifact, and two counts of assaulting a member of the watch.” He put the notepad away. “We both know you were there last night, and we both know you can’t hide it if I bring you back.” Savrin nodded, slouching. He felt defeated. “However, Mr. Dellisar, I’m not here to arrest you.”

Savrin looked back up. “What are you here for, then?”

“How much do you know about the Blue Pincer Gang?”

“The crime ring? They mostly keep to themselves, don’t they?”

The constable nodded. “Mostly. What you might not know is that they have a lot of the watch on their payroll.”

Savrin gave a quick nod. “I can’t say I’m very surprised.”

“I’d do something about it, but I just don’t have enough to arrest them. Bureaucracy. But I know enough to worry that they have something big planned.”

“What sort of ‘big,’ exactly?”

“I can’t be sure. But at this point,” he ran a stressed hand through his hair, “I can’t trust any of my officers. So, here’s my proposition. I want you to find out what they’re doing, and get me information that I can turn into an arrest, or at least enough to go in and stop it myself.”

“And you’ll just let the thing with the court go?”

“Like it never happened. It wasn’t much anyway.”

“Not much? I threw--”

“A dagger at a guard?” The constable tapped his chest. “They don’t wear that armour for nothing. You just nicked him, really.”

Savrin let out a small smile. “That’s quite a relief. I was afraid I’d really harmed him.”

“No, he’s fine. So, we have a deal?” Savrin nodded, and the constable stood. He was walking away, when he turned back. “Oh, and Mr. Dellisar. I used to dabble in alchemy myself. It’s tsavorite, not emerald.”

He walked out the door, and Savrin cocked his head. His eyes widened when he made a realization, and scrawled “Tsavorite” in his notebook, circling it a few times.

Afterwards, Savrin proceeded with his day, buying some soap, and investing in a bale of hay, which he spread into the alley under his window. He wasn’t sure if it’d really help, but it comforted him. After doing some laundry, and scrubbing caked mud off of his leathers, he set to work in his laboratory. It was a bit makeshift, but it worked for him, and he began investigating the samples he took from the artifact. He studied the metal for hours, and while he felt he understood the artifact, he wasn’t sure how to extract that magic. He closed his notebook and stoppered his vials.

After strapping on his leathers and throwing his hood over his horns, he slipped out the window. This time, he went straight down to the streets, moving down alleyways and muddy paths until he found himself in a courtyard full of cutthroats, pickpockets and ruffians. If he was to learn about the Blue Pincers, this was the place to do it.

He hung about for a while, keeping his hood low over his eyes. After a while, he spotted an elf wearing their symbol. He sidled closer to the elf, and she paid him no mind. She was joking with a few others, a half-orc and a drow, when she was approached by a human.

“The butcher needs us,” he said.

She scoffed. “I hadn’t even gotten into him.” She turned to the others. “This guy, what a creep. I could tell you quite a bit.”

The human cut her off. “Which you won’t. We’re being paid to be discreet, Nith.”

“Right, right.” She nodded to her friends. “Pick it up tomorrow night, same time?” They nodded, and she walked off with the human. As soon as they turned the corner, Savrin walked toward them. He peered around it, and saw them moving down the alleyway. He did his best to keep hidden as he followed, hoping to keep in earshot. Mostly, he heard incoherent muttering.

They arrived at a seedy building, and went inside. Savrin glanced from side to side, and climbed up the building’s rough stonework. He found a window, and listened in. He heard the sound of metal on stone, and a glance inside confirmed that there was someone sharpening a blade. They were turned away from him, with a wide hood over their head. They wore dark leather, and seemed to be adorned with a plethora of daggers, with one sheath notably empty. A raven calmly sat on a nearby table, preening its feathers.

A knock at the door interrupted the strange person in leather. They glanced up, and opened it, and Savrin ducked, so as not to be seen. He listened closely.

“Es-” said the elf named Nith, who was swiftly cut off.

“Don’t,” the stranger said. Their voice was indecipherable, carrying no information but dread.

Savrin heard the voice of the man with Nith. “We were told you needed something.”

“I must be moved closer to the court.”

“That can be arranged.”

Nith spoke up. “When is your guy coming around?”

“Soon. Certero is ready to strike, as am I.”

Nith gave a nervous laugh. “Ah, right. Good to know.”

There was quiet for a moment, and Savrin peeked over the window sill. He saw that Nith had been left alone with the stranger, as well as the raven. Savrin assumed that “Certero” must have referred to the bird, who had an unmoving glare set on Nith. She was obviously uncomfortable, whether it was because of the bird or the stranger, or both, Savrin couldn’t tell.

Footsteps approached the door, and Savrin ducked back down. The man with Nith spoke up. “We’ll escort you to The Basin. Nith, you know it?”

“Ah, The Basin. Yeah, that’d do him nicely.”

Savrin knew it too. The Basin was the nickname for an old brick building, a few blocks from the royal court. It was abandoned for some time, which earned its name when someone broke open its door after a particularly rainy storm. The roof had collapsed, but the interior remained remarkably sturdy. When the door broke, the vandal was swept away by the flood of rain that had collected the previous night.

Savrin was sure he’d heard enough, when he heard a high-pitch voice from below.

“‘Scuse me, sir. What’re you doing up there?” Savrin looked down to see a young gnome. Savrin tried to wave him away, but he continued speaking. “Hey, I know you! You’re that tiefling that sold father a potion. It cured him right up, you know, thanks for that. But what’re you doing on a building? Shouldn’t you go inside, rather’n hang about the window like that?” The boy continued rambling like that, and when Savrin glanced up, he saw the stranger, glaring at him. Their eyes burned with apathetic death. Savrin was a mere inconvenience, a new loose end to tie up.

With a jolt, Savrin let go of the window sill, landing awkwardly in a pile of garbage. The garbage was surprisingly soft, and broke his fall. He came to his senses when a dagger flew into the garbage, very nearly cutting through him. He sprang up and pulled a vial of clear, runny liquid from his cloak, quickly swallowing it. He sprinted away from the alley, the extract giving him a surge of speed. He was out of sight before any of the Blue Pincers could give chase.

Once he was a safe distance away, Savrin nervously walked home, hoping no one was following. He double checked the lock in his door, wishing it were a bit sturdier. As scared as he was, exhaustion quickly overtook him, and he fell asleep.

When he woke up, things seemed quiet. He didn’t want to go out, so instead, he buried himself in work, analyzing his samples from the court, as well as a few other experiments he was going over. Several hours into his work, he heard a clearing throat. The sound startled him, and he jumped, hitting the table with his knee. A sizzling sound rose as fluid spilled onto the table. He wheeled around and saw it was simply Theburim, the dwarf who owned The Ol’ Barn Tavern, as well as the converted silo Savrin lived in.

“Theburim. You surprised me.”

“Aye, I noticed. I knocked.”

Savrin was sheepish. “I must have been so wrapped up in… anyway, what brings you here?”

“I wanted to ask what this was about.” Theburim handed Savrin a piece of paper that seemed to be a hastily drawn wanted poster. “Lad, that’s the Blue Pincers. They’re bad news, you’d best not cross them.”

“Ah, right, I… tried to keep out of their way.”

“Well, you’re a good lad, I’ll keep my mouth shut, but you ought to lay low until this blows over.” He went to leave, and stopped, turning again. “Oh, and there’s a bloke in the tavern asking for you, says he knows you. I told him I don’t know where you are, just a heads up.”

Savrin stopped Theburim from leaving. “Wait, does he wear a long coat, brown, neat hair, all that?”

Theburim furrowed his brow and nodded. “You do know him, then?”

Savrin nodded. “I need to speak with him.” He turned and noticed the hole eaten into the table. “Ah. I’ll fix that, Theburim.”

“Don’t worry about it, lad. I’ve a few bits of furniture I’ve been meaning to dispose of, you can have any of it you like.”

“Oh, I appreciate it, thank you,” Savrin said, throwing on his cloak as he stepped out the door. He walked into the tavern next door, and saw the constable sitting alone at the same table. Savrin sat down near him, hood drawn.

“Mr. Delliser,” the constable greeted. “Do you have any news for me?”

“Yes, it seems like they have an assassin, not theirs, they’re harbouring him.”

“An assassin?” The constable racked his mind. “Do you know his target?”

“No, but he’s being moved to the Basin.”

“Okay. I can keep an eye over there.” He thought again, and then slammed a fist on the table. “Khurain! Of course! Mr. Delliser, you’ve been a tremendous help.”

“Good. So, our deal?”

“Done. You were never in the court.”

“And, what should I do about this?” Savrin asked, showing the constable the wanted poster.

The constable looked it over. “Oh,” he said. “This could be an issue. I’m afraid…” He trailed off. “I’m afraid I can’t help you with this. They’ll want you pretty badly, too.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Don’t attract any attention. If I were you, I would consider leaving town.”

Savrin nodded solemnly. The constable bade him farewell, and promised to do his best to keep the Pincers off of him. Savrin thought for awhile, and settled on a decision. He walked up to the bar, where Theburim was working.

“How’d your talk go?” the dwarf asked.

“It was… fine. I wanted to ask, what’s a good way to get around?”

“Your feet not enough?”

“No, I mean, around the country.”

“Ah, you want to see the sights, travel the lands?” Theburim looked Savrin over. “You need to get out of town, don’t you, lad?”

Savrin gave a quick nod. “Yeah, I do.”

“Well, I can’t say I blame you.” Theburim set down the glass he was polishing, and put his hands down on the bar. “Well, you can usually head out with trade caravans, or pilgrims if you’re the religious sort. Setting out on your own’s a bit dangerous. Of course, if you think you’ve the skills to offer, you could always set out with an adventuring party.”

“Adventuring…” Savrin mused. He thought about it.

Theburim nodded. “You like that idea? Your potions and what not could come in handy. And your, well, other skills.”

Savrin looked up. “Um,” he stammered, “What do you mean?”

“Lad, I know a set of picks when I see them, and no simple apothecary needs that many daggers.” Theburim started polishing his glass again. “If you’re decided, you’d best get started sooner rather than later.”

Savrin nodded, and thanked Theburim. He went back to his silo and packed up his things, deciding what to take and what to leave. He kept some essential lab supplies, as well as a set of clothes and his leathers, his daggers, and his ever-important book of notes. The rest he left in the silo, and told Theburim that everything left behind belonged to the dwarf. He nodded, and reached under the counter, and put a stack of coins on the bar.

“What’s this?”

“Your deposit, and some extra for your things.”

“Ah, Theburim, let it just cover my rent, I don’t--”

“You paid your rent three days ago, son. You need something to get you out of the gates. You’ve also done a lot of work since you came here, I won’t see you leave empty handed.”

Savrin could see that Themburin was set on it. “Alright. Hold out for a good price on the lab equipment, it’ll be valuable to someone.”

“Aye, lad. If you ever come around, give the Ol’ Barn a visit, will you?”

“Of course.” Savrin awkwardly stood still, and Theburim frowned at him.

“Take the gold and go, son.”

Savrin nodded emphatically. “Right, right. I’ll be seeing you.”

“Take care.” Savrin left the tavern, and stepped into the general store. There he bought some provisions, as well as a sturdier sword, before leaving the town.


End file.
